My second biggest fear after my 12 week old being put under was the fact that he couldn't eat for 4 hours before the surgery. (If he had been on formula, he wouldn't have been able to eat after midnight.) If you've met Jack, you know that he is an extremely laid back baby, and the only time he fusses is when he's hungry. I imagined listening to him scream the whole way to the hospital. We woke up at 2 and fed him as much as we could since he had to be done by 3. He went back to sleep and David and I woke up at 4:20 to sneak into the shower and pack the car. Our parents and I were outside and David slipped a sleeping baby into his carseat and into the car. He slept until the nurses woke him up to start putting in his eyedrops. He never screamed for food. It was amazing. He loved the warm blankets they kept putting over him, and eventually ended up falling back asleep in the pre-op room.
The anasthesiologist came in, and I don't know if he saw the tears in my eyes or just knew we were anxious parents, but he immediately began telling us that Jack had a greater risk of getting hurt on the way to the hospital than he did being under anasthesia. It was finally time to go, the grandparents came back and gave Jack a kiss and I had to do the hardest thing I have ever done...I had to hand my child, my LIFE, over to the anasthesiologst. He carried Jack out of the room and David and I just fell into each other's arms. We had been anticipating and dreading this exact moment for the past 9 days, and at this point, we had to let go and trust God and these nurses and doctors.
The surgery took about an hour. At first, we were okay and had some breakfast, but after 30 minutes, we started to get anxious and watching the clock. Finally, our doctor came out and told us the surgery was a success and Jack was in recovery waking up. They'd come get us in a few minutes once the anasthesia had worn off. A few minutes later, she came back and got me. Apparently, Jack was screaming down the house and they wanted me to go back and feed him. I walked in to recovery and immediately had Jack in my arms in a rocking chair. He had a huge patch on his eye and a tube with oxygen blowing on his face. It should have scared the crap out of me, but I was so happy to see him and hear him crying that it didn't bother me one bit. I started to feed him and the nurses and doctors started to filter out of the room. I asked the nurse if David could come back, so they called for him and he joined us. They had given Jack a little bit of morphine for any pain, so he became very sleepy. They put Jack and I in a wheelchair and David went back to the waiting room to get our parents. Jack and I were wheeled to the pediatric ward to our room.
He slept until about 4pm, waking up off and on to eat a little bit. We learned for next time that we need to sleep during this time too, because we were in for a loooooooooooong night. When he woke up around 4, he wasn't too thrilled with the tape and patch over his eye. He fussed until about 9 that night, when he was back to his old self. We sang with him and read books on the bed. It was difficult because he was attached to so many wires that we couldn't go any farther than the bed with him, and every time we moved him, we unhooked a monitor and the nurses alarm started going on. It became very frustrating for both of us. We tried to put him in the hospital bed/crib to sleep, but he was constantly clawing at the patch, so we ended up taking shifts holding him in the bed for the rest of the night. He got some good sleep in our arms, and we got some sleep sitting up. It had been a long 24 hours for everyone.
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